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“Right,” Vehn said. “Just … stay away from me, yeah? Or take a bath, at least. You smell like a Wookiee’s armpit.”

Qorl laughed brusquely, put his hands on his thighs, and rose painfully to his full height. He looked squarely at Anakin. “You sure about this, then?” he asked.

“I’ve got to do it,” Anakin said. “The Force is pulling me to do it.”

“The Force. Huh. Will the Force get you halfway around the moon in less then a year? Because that’s how long it will take you to walk it, if you don’t get gobbled by piranha-beetles or die of creek fever. You might as well wait until we have the ship fixed.”

“I don’t have to walk,” Anakin said. “The repulsorlift system in the E-wing was salvageable. I cobbled together something that will pass for a speeder.”

“Already?”

“Days ago. But until you came along, I couldn’t really talk myself into going. I couldn’t take Valin and Sannah, and I couldn’t leave them behind.” But now I have two signs, he finished to himself, Qorl, and my dream. It felt right to go. It felt terribly wrong not to. It felt—Chewbacca’s face flashed in his mind, as he had last seen it, and Tahiri, alone, surrounded.

Tahiri, grown, wearing Yuuzhan Vong armor and wielding dark-side Force.

It was a risk he had to take.

“I’m going to explain this to Valin and Sannah now,” Anakin said. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Commander Tsaak Vootuh aimed his opalescent eyes at the trembling human, restraining the part of himself that wanted to put the pathetic creature out of its misery.

Which was most of him.

“You are Imsatad?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Straighten yourself,” Vootuh snarled. “The mewling of a Yuuzhan Vong infant in a crèche has more fierceness than your whine.” As he spoke, he cherished the thin hiss of breath through the deep chevrons that cut through his cheeks. He clasped his hands behind his back so that the cloak gripping into the flesh of his shoulders fell open to reveal the full glory of the tattoos and burn puckers that adorned his torso. He silently praised Yun-Yuuzhan for not condemning him to be one of these smooth, honorless infidels.

“Yes, sir,” Imsatad replied, his voice slightly firmer.

“You explained to my subordinates that you are an ally of ours? One of the—” He frowned, trying to remember the name of the group in Basic. “Peez Brigade?”

The tizowyrm in his ear translated the first word as “willing and appropriate submission from the submissive to the conqueror.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I wonder how you will confirm that,” Tsaak Vootuh said. “Our information was that this moon was home to many young Jeedai. And yet I find none at all. This is peculiar, and I suspect you are to blame.”

“No!” Imsatad said. “We came here in good faith, to keep the terms of the peace your warmaster Tsavong Lah proposed.”

“And failed miserably to do so. Where are the Jeedai?”

Imsatad hesitated. “We have one. The others are with Karrde.”

“The commander of the flotilla that fled our approach?”

“That’s him. He tricked us into—”

“I have no interest in the details of your failure. Two of this Karrde’s ships made the jump to hyperspace. I assume those ships contained the prize you let slip through your fingers.”

“With all respect, Commander, if it weren’t for me and my crew, you wouldn’t have even one Jedi. Karrde would have taken them all before you arrived.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. But tell me—why does he remain in this system?”

Imsatad frowned. “Does he?”

“Yes. He has withdrawn to the edge of the system, but remains there. I do not complain, for it will give me and my warriors combat when I feared we must sit idle. But I wish to know his reason. I do not imagine that he would stay for the sake of a single immature Jeedai.” He leaned close, dropping his voice to a whisper. “What have you failed to tell me?”

The human cleared its throat. “There—I think there are perhaps a few more Jedi here on the moon. I think one of them might be Anakin Solo.”

“Solo?”

“Brother to Jacen Solo, whom Tsavong Lah so desires.”

“Interesting, if true.”

“I would like to